Ten Cups of Coffee
by alexmarie3
Summary: Ten drabbles/ficlets. Charlotte-centric, will be Cooper/Charlotte in later chapters.
1. I

Charlotte-centric, I just thought it would be interesting to write a story about her because I think she's the most under-utilized character on the show. Ten little drabbles, completely separate moments in her life, every chapter is a different one. Each involve a cup of coffee somewhere as a common theme. Later chapters are Cooper/Charlotte. I own nothing, I make no money off of this, I'm just a broke college student messing around on Word.

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**1.**

"I can't find my goddamn hair dryer," Charlotte spat out, stomping into the kitchen. Landry barely contained his laugh as he peered at her from over the top of his newspaper.

"Big Daddy know you're talking like that now?" was all he asked.

"I'm thirteen today," she stated matter-of-factly. "I'll speak however I damn well please." Her eyes narrowed at his lack of reaction. "And I'm gonna have a cup of coffee."

This time, he really did let out a chuckle at her stubborn defiance. She didn't say anything, just walked over to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup. At thirteen years old, she was awkwardly skinny and flat as a board, with straight blonde hair that never did anything but hang down her back like straw. Not to mention that she had two older brothers who constantly teased her about her chicken legs, mocked the shows she watched on television and talked to her like she was four years old. She needed _something_ to signify her growing up. She needed to be taken seriously.

So she took a mug of black coffee over to the table and sat directly across from her oldest brother, daring him to lessen her coming-of-age moment. Her eyes never left his as she took a gulp of the most repulsive liquid she had ever tasted, and tried as hard as she could to not let her disgust show on her face. Landry didn't buy it.

"Not as good as you thought it would be, huh?"

"I like it just fine," Charlotte retorted. And she drank the whole damn mug.


	2. II

Thank you for the reviews; they're much appreciated. This one's a little longer, goes a little deeper...I promise they won't all be this angsty- I have some pretty light-hearted one's as well :). Again, I own nothing, I make no money off of this. Don't sue me.

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**2.**

Charlotte was sitting on the couch mindlessly taking small bites out of a piece of dry toast when Mama wandered in. She didn't move, just continued to stare at the cold, long-abandoned cup of coffee on the small table in front of her, and allowed her mother to stand awkwardly in the doorway. Ever since Charlotte had to shoot her horse, Marjorie, the previous day, the entire family had been avoiding her like the plague, tiptoeing around the house so that they wouldn't have to look her in the eye. The Kings had avoiding down to an art form.

Lillian King was the kind of woman who maybe never should have been a mother, but family and social obligation had superseded any doubts she may have had about her own natural abilities. So here she was, standing in a doorway, trying to figure out how to tell her grieving, 15-year-old daughter that she needed to move, because the caterers were here to set up for tonight's party. After a moment, she broke the silence.

"Maybe you should try to go do something with your hair. For tonight."

Charlotte looked up at her mother. She was very pretty and graceful and it was no wonder that everyone in town wanted to come to the many lavish affairs that she threw to honor even the most obscure achievements and charities.

"I'm not coming tonight," was all she said, refusing to move from her post on the couch.

"Charlotte, darling, please, I don't have time for thi-"

"I hate your parties. They're long and boring."

"Well, maybe if you invited a couple of friends then you would enjoy yourself."

Charlotte shot her mother an icy glare.

She didn't have any real friends, at least, none that she was close enough with to invite them to a party. Social situations had never been her strong suit, unlike her mother. As selfish and aloof as Mama was with her own family, she was charming and alluring when interacting with guests, especially once she had a few drinks in her.

"I mean, if you were just a little _warmer_ with people, if you smiled more often, maybe then people would like you more," Mama continued with a forced smile, clearly trying to suppress her own frustration.

Charlotte stood up quickly in an attempt to escape the conversation, and in the process, knocked over the coffee cup, spilling brown liquid across the table. She watched as it dripped onto the carpet in an abstract pattern.

The spilt coffee was the last straw for the elder King, who stormed across the room and slapped her daughter quickly across the face. "You stupid, clumsy girl; now I have to get someone to clean this up. Go, just…Jesus, Charlotte, will you just _leave_!" She was screaming at this point, and Charlotte felt her cheek stinging and tears prick the back of her eye as she stormed out of the room, leaving her mother to call for the housekeeper.

It wasn't until she got to her room that she allowed herself to actually cry, shutting and locking the door behind her so no one would see. Before, she would have gone out to the stable, but when she realized that that was no longer an option, she cried even harder.

Marjorie had been her friend.


	3. III

Thank you all for continuing to read! And please review, they're very helpful and much appreciated :).

**3.**

_Day three_.

It was Charlotte's first thought when she woke up the Sunday after she moved into her dorm at University of Alabama. Today was her third day at college. Her second full day if she was to be literal about it, but she was gonna go ahead and count Friday as day one, seeing as it was just as full of torture as any full day would have been. Moving in, meeting her perpetually cheerful roommate and being forced to attend some sort of "Welcome to college!" pep rally with everyone else in her hallway by their RA. If she heard "Sweet Home Alabama" one more time she was going to snap and kill someone. _Everyone gets it. We're from Alabama. __Please diversify your music choices._

She hated this place. It was hotter than hell and her little fan did nothing to stop the sweat from pooling up on the backs of her knees and in the crooks of her elbows. She wanted to go to somewhere far away, like Boston or Los Angeles, but Big Daddy told her he would cut her off if she so much as thought about leaving the state to get her education. Her hands were tied. So, on move-in day Charlotte wore her brother's Auburn University t-shirt for the express purpose of pissing off her future classmates and to make some sort of statement about how little she cared about this school or it's stupid rivalries.

She cautiously opened one eye and turned toward her roommate's bed. She saw that it was already neatly made with Leighann nowhere in sight. Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief. It was too damn early to deal with Leighann's incessant chattering. She just prayed that the girl would run out of things to talk about by September and maybe then Charlotte would get some peace. A quick glance at the clock told her it was 11:00. She had slept through church, which was surprising. She never slept this late. Not that it mattered, not like she ever went to church, really. She always skipped it. She took after her mother that way.

At that moment, the door slowly opened. In walked Leighann, juggling two cups of coffee and a small brown bag.

"Well, good morning sunshine," Leighann smiled warmly. "I figured you'd want some breakfast when you woke up. I got muffins."

Charlotte was taken aback by the kind gesture and instantly felt guilty about her negative thoughts.

"Thanks," she said as she took a small sip of hot liquid and gave a small, genuine smile.

With that, Leighann took off into a story about something that had happened in the café while she was getting breakfast, and Charlotte closed her eyes. _Baby steps_, she thought to herself. _Baby steps._


	4. IV

Sorry about the delay with this one. Thank you all for reading and for your reviews! They mean a lot to me :).

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**4.**

It was around 10:30 Saturday morning when Leighann shuffled out of her bedroom to find her roommate sitting at the kitchen table, fully showered, dressed and eating breakfast.

"Jeez, how long have you been up?"

Charlotte swallowed down some coffee and shrugged. "Since six-ish? Maybe earlier. I couldn't sleep. I cleaned up though, so don't make a mess."

Leighann looked around the now spotless apartment and shook her head. "You're a freak, you know that, right?"

Charlotte nodded. She was painfully aware of just how much of a freak she was, and over the last three and a half years, Leighann had been the only one truly able to put up with her. It really was a shame that Charlotte had no intention of staying in Alabama.

The big brown envelope from Johns Hopkins was tucked away beneath a pile of newspapers, but leave it to Leighann to knock over the pile and find it.

"Johns Hopkins? Wait, did you get in?!" she turned to Charlotte, who said nothing, just gave a small nod and took another sip of coffee.

"Holy shit, Charlotte, that's amazing. Why aren't you jumping around and…wait, when did this letter come? The mail hasn't come yet, you've been hiding this from me for at least a day?"

Charlotte shrugged. "It's not _that_ big a deal. It's not like it's Harvard or anything." That prompted an exaggerated eye roll from the counter. "Look, really, you don't need to make a big deal about it. It's just a school, I mean, I had a feeling I'd get in, ya know? It's not that big a deal."

"No, it's _such_ a big deal, this is _amazing_ news. Come on, let yourself get excited over this," Leighann walked over and hugged Charlotte, who grimaced under the weight of the gesture.

"Fine, then," Charlotte decided. "If I have to be excited, then you have to clean the kitchen after dinner tonight."

Leighann laughed. "Fine then, it's a deal," she paused for a moment. "Dr. King."

Charlotte smiled. Dr. King. She liked that.


	5. V

Thanks for the reviews and for continuing to read :).

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**5.**

The bar was loud, her drink was weak, and Charlotte wasn't particularly enjoying her present company.

Every Friday, a few people from her endocrinology class asked her to join them for drinks later that evening. Every week she refused, but they continued to ask her out of politeness. No one had been more shocked than she was when, out of the blue, she accepted their invitation this week. She wasn't sure _why_ she had done it- maybe it was because she needed to relieve some stress, and alcohol was the best way she knew how; or maybe it was because on some level she knew she should probably establish some sort of relationships with people before she went crazy. Whatever the reason was, she was now stuck here in this bar growing more and more miserable by the second.

Sitting at the table among her classmates was some guy she had never met before, drunk off his ass, who appeared to have the maturity level of a thirteen-year-old. She ignored him, turning instead to the girl next to her to ask a question. This guy, Jason she thought his name was, or Justin, started laughing before she could finish her sentence.

"Wait, wait," he gasped between laughs. "You sound like you are _straight_ out of _Steel Magnolias_. Where are you from, anyways?"

Charlotte stiffened her back and instantly went into a defensive mode. "Alabama," she replied plainly without taking her eyes off of him.

Jason, Jackass, whatever his name was, started laughing even harder. "_Alabama_?!" He asked incredulously. "Not even somewhere respectable like Texas? I didn't even know people in Alabama could read, let alone get into medical school."

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't be mocking anyone right now if I were you, you're the one who just admitted that you saw _Steel Magnolias_."

Jason's friend started laughing and grabbed his buddy by the shoulder. "She got you man, she _got_ you."

Jason was less than amused. "Hey, Ellie Mae, why don't you go back to the farm you came from?"

"Only if your friends promise to stick you back in whatever cave they pulled you out of," she replied as she stood up and started to put on her jacket. She put a ten-dollar bill on the table and looked at the girl who had given her a ride to the bar.

"Thanks for the invite. I'm gonna grab a cab home." With that she walked out of the bar, not bothering to listen to what anyone was saying to her. No one followed her- not that she was really expecting anyone to. The street was empty, so she walked into the Dunkin' Donuts a few doors down.

"Do you have a payphone?" she asked the pimply-faced 18-year-old behind the counter.

"Um, yeah, but it's for customers only," he replied and pointed toward the back of the store.

Charlotte wasn't in the mood to argue with a teenager on a power trip, she just wanted to get home. "I'll have a small black coffee, then," she sighed, and closed her eyes. Sometimes, very rarely, when all of the elements of the universe seem to be conspiring against her, she missed home, just a little bit.


	6. VI

Sorry again for the delay, but thank you again for continuing to read and please review!

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**6.**

From the moment she woke up half an hour late, Charlotte should have known that today would be a terrible day. The brief power outage in her building that reset her alarm clock was probably some sort of symbol that she never should have gotten out of bed in the first place.

The universe warned her once again to avoid the hospital when a truck cut her off on the 405 during the morning rush hour, sending her coffee down the front of her shirt as she slammed on the brakes and swerved into the next lane, narrowly avoiding a crash.

She probably should have just walked out and gone home when she heard word from her attending of four surgical deaths since she left the hospital the night before, two of which were on so-called routine surgeries.

But Charlotte ignored the signs and now here she was, staring into the eyes of a woman whose construction-worker husband had fallen off some scaffolding and landed almost squarely on his head, trying to tell her that she had just become a 26-year-old widow.

"I'm so sorry Mrs. Ward, but we did all we could. There was just too much damage to his skull and brain."

Charlotte stopped herself as she watched the woman in front of her clutch a little boy no older than two and start sobbing uncontrollably. The little boy who would never know his father put his arms around his mother's neck and looked around the hospital, not quite aware of his surroundings.

Charlotte wasn't sure whether she was supposed to hug this woman or walk away, so she did neither. She just stood there awkwardly with her hands behind her back, lips pursed tightly together and head hanging down, willing herself not to cry.


End file.
